


Babel

by trickztr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Badass!Cas, Fallen, Grace!fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, fallen!cas, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trickztr/pseuds/trickztr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right after they defeat Lucifer, Castiel is summoned by The Council to go to back to duty. He denies them, choosing a life with the Winchesters, and has his powers stripped back from him. </p><p>When his grace flares back to life, though, the former angel and Dean start doubting how much one needs the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Babel

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place right after S5. Kind of like an AU S6.
> 
> For the sake of the plot (and happiness), let's just pretend Sam never jumped into Lucifer's cage. :D
> 
>  
> 
> Also, thank you so much, @_nathy for the AMAZING last-minute beta work.  
> <333

 

>  

> _**5** But the Lord came down to see the city and the tower the people were building. **6** The Lord said, “If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them. **7** Come, let us go down and confuse their language so they will not understand each other.” (Genesis 11:1-9)_

 

 

 

It was pouring rain that night. The drops would fall down, fat and cold and heavy down the collar of his shirt, mixing with sweat and trailing their way down his back, soaking up, it seemed, through his bones. The chilly wind made things no better and Castiel was tired. His moves were slowying down and the demon fighting him was gaining advantage.

****

_‘Always keep your head on the game’_ , Dean’s lesson echoed faintly in his brain and he tried, _God_ , he did, but exhaustion, hunger and pain were getting the best of him.

****

Castiel blocked a punch aimed for his face, but missed the kick on his knee. He buckled forward, his body giving in to his weight and he fell down on one knee on the concrete.

****

Somewhere to his right he heard Dean scream his name, but he didn’t look over. Something was rattling beneath his skin. He’d known pain before - he’s known whole new levels of physical pain during this year hunting with the Winchesters - but this was different. This hurt to his very core. His leg throbbed, his head felt like it was about to explode and his heart was beating so fast it almost stood above the noises of battle and storm.

****

The demon above him snickered. “Gotta tell ya, sweetie-pie: I’m disappointed.” It said, crouching down in front of him. It grabbed the angel’s hair and lifted his head so that they were both at eye level. “I’ve always heard these stories about your feathery asses being hard to kick, but this is just a huge let down.”

****

Castiel’s breathing picked up and his fists balled up. He grabbed the demon’s hand to pull it away but the creature only laughed and tightened its grip. “Your boys don’t look so good, themselves, either.” It leaned in to whisper in Castiel’s ear. “The fearsome trio who stopped the apocalypse... You ain’t so hot right now, are you?”

****

The woods behind them suddenly flooded with light when a lightning ripped the sky. Castiel felt his hands burn.

****

“I think Lucifer’s gonna be real happy when we hand over your heads to him.” The demon went on, now getting up and bringing Castiel, by the hair, with it. “We’re gonna bring him back and you’re gonna be the perfect homecoming gift.”

****

Thunder roared loud and powerful all around them just when the demon pressed its filthy lips against Castiel’s. And, once more, the night flooded with a blinding flash of light, only this time, coming from Castiel’s hands, eyes and mouth.

****

When the light faded, all five demons were lying lifeless on the pavement and Sam and Dean were crouched by the Impala, hands over their heads and eyes shut tight.

****

Then he felt bile creep up his throat and his vision darkened.

****

* * *

****

When he came back to consciousness he was lying on a bed, at what was distinctively a roadside motel room, but none that he recognised. Dean was sitting on a chair by his bed.

****

“Oh, hey, you’re up.” Dean smiled at him, relief written subtly in the lines on his forehead. Castiel tried to sit up, but his muscles ached in protest. He flinched and sank back onto the mattress. “Woah, easy there, tiger.” Dean chuckled. “You scared the fuck out of us, man.”

****

Castiel’s stomach rumbled and his throat felt scratchy and dry. “Can I have some water?” He murmured hoarsely.

****

“Yeah, sure, of course!” Dean got up and hurried to the sink. He came back and placed the glass by the nightstand. “Here, lemme help you up.” He grabbed Castiel’s torso and helped him ease up and against the arranged pillows. “There you go.” He handed Castiel his drink and and, this time, sat by the angel’s bed.

****

Castiel drank it all in one gulp. Then he drank two more. And ate almost all of the leftover takeout they had in the room. And then five more slices of a pizza Dean had ordered for himself. When he was done, Dean finally asked.

****

“So... What happened back there?”

****

Castiel shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.” He ran a hand through his own hair. “If I were to guess, though, I’d say my grace flamed back to life.”

****

Dean stared at him. “You mean,” He paused, frown deepening. “Your mojo? _You got your angel mojo back_?”

****

“Momentarily, yes.” He coughed. Looking around the room he saw nothing but Dean’s belongings and suddenly became very aware that Sam was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Sam?” His palms sweated and a shiver went up his spine. “Did something happen to him? Did I hurt any of you?”

****

“Shh, relax.” Dean soothed him. “He’s okay. We’re okay.” He graced Castiel with a crooked smile. “It’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than that to take us down, man. Plus, we’ve seen you do your thing a million times. We know the drill.”

****

Castiel nodded. “That’s good. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if--”

****

“Cut the drama queen crap, okay.” Dean cut him off. “We’re good. You’re up. Sam is off checking out a werewolf back in Salem.” Dean assured him. “Everything’s okay.”

****

Castiel frowned. “Why aren’t you in Salem?”

****

Dean snorted. “What, you think Sam can’t handle a wolf on his own?”

****

“No, I mean. Why didn’t _you_ go and Sam stayed?”

****

Dean shrugged. “I got the short straw, what can I say?” He got up. “I’m gonna have a beer, you want one?”

****

“No, thank you.” His palms were still sore. “For how long was I unconscious?”

****

“About a week.”

****

“Dean.” Castiel said, concerned. “This doesn’t bode well.”

****

“You’re telling _me_? I seriously thought of renaming you ‘Sleeping Beauty’.” He sat back on the bed.

****

“No, not that.” He licked his dry lips. “The whole thing. My grace sparking back to life is no ordinary event. Before, when we were fighting, the demon said they were bringing back Lucifer.”

****

Dean shook his head. “They’re always saying that, Cas. They’ve been saying that for more than a year. It’s not a plan, it’s wishful thinking.”

****

“Normally I’d agree with you about that, but my grace flared back to life.” He stressed. “The Council removed its power. For the rest of eternity.” Dean eyed him, lips pressed in a thin line. “The Council never revokes a sentence.”

****

“So, what? You think Luci is out of the box and spreading angelic fairy dust around?”

****

“No.” Castiel slid his hand down his hip to grip his sword, reassuringly. “I think the Council has been reformed.”

****

Dean squinted at him. “Come again?”

****

“It’s only happened three times since Creation, but every time the Council is reformed, the seraphs who ruled it are killed and replaced. The last time it happened was when Michael expelled Lucifer from Heaven and several angels fell.”

****

“Dude, will you relax?” Dean reasoned with him. “Nothing happened when the actual apocalypse was going down. I bet it was just a glitch.”

****

“Dean, _everything_ happened then.” Castiel pointed out. “Several angels died and three fell.” He said quietly. “Including myself.”

****

Dean sighed. He got up and rubbed a hand over his lips. “Fine. Let’s assume shit _is_ going down.” He conceded. “What do you plan on doing about that?”

****

Castiel, feeling a little stronger then, got up as well. He wasn’t wearing Jimmy Novak’s clothes anymore, he noticed earlier. Instead, he was wearing a black t-shirt advertising someone’s world tour and a pair of boxers. He felt cold, but they smelled better than he did. “The obvious: I need to investigate.”

****

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean said, impatiently. “I mean, how? It’s not like you can take a trip upstairs.” Dean baited. When Castiel didn’t say anything, just looked down, he spoke again. _“Are you fucking kidding me?”_

****

“Dean, listen--”

 

“How would you even do that? You killed a handful of demons and went into a coma for a fucking week!”

****

Castiel touched Dean’s shoulder. “I don’t have to go there, myself. There are other means to communicate with Heaven.” He clarified. “Special, sacred places, provide a direct line to other planes of existence.”

****

“Okay, good.” Dean grabbed his coat on the bed. “You gimme the details on the way.”

****

“Dean, wait.” Castiel called him. “This is something I must do on my own.”

****

Dean blinked a few times, his mouth slightly open. It lasted only a couple seconds. Then he set his jaw and threw his jacket back on the bed, collapsing on it, himself. “Fine. Go on your little trip alone. Just don’t get killed, ‘cause I spent a fucking week trying to keep you alive.” The scene looked comically childish, but Castiel never laughed.

****

“I promise to be back shortly.” Castiel said, walking towards the door.

****

“Whatever.” Dean mumbled, picking up a copy of some skin-magazine on his nightstand. “Just don’t forget to put on some pants.”

****

Castiel felt his face burn. “... Of course.”

****

 

 

* * *

****

The trees shook. The earth trembled. The wind blew hard, but Castiel remained knelt and with his head down, voice low, professing prayers in ancient Enochian.

****

The doors of the Church slammed open and finally he looked up. His palms flared up again.

****

 

 

* * *

****

_“You have eight new messages.”_ , the robotic female voice informed him.

****

"Hey, Cas, it’s Sam. Dean is moping. What happened?"

****

“Seriously, Cas. It’s been a month. Drop us a line. It’s Sam, by the way.”

****

“Whatever you’re getting yourself into, man, let us in. Dean won’t say it, but we’re worried about you.”

****

“We’ve already faced an apocalypse together. We can do this again. Call me.” Sam’s annoyed voice begged him.

****

“You have _one week_ to get in touch, or I’m hunting your ass. Call Dean, he’s going up the walls thinking you’re taking on supernatural crap on your own.”

****

“I warned you. I’m hunting you down.”

****

“Cas, this is Dean. Sam went after you, even though I specifically told him not to. Kick his ass for me, will ya? Oh, and you could’ve just texted him to let him know you were okay, or are you too busy with big angel business to--”

****

_“You have no more messages.”_

****

 

 

* * *

****

Sam finally caught up with him in Sedona, deep in the Old Creek Canyon. He had a shotgun in his hand and a sour look on his face. Castiel had been crouched, listening to the rocks and the vegetation, but he got up when Sam approached him.

****

“ _What the hell?_ ” The younger Winchester nearly howled at him.

****

Castiel raised a hand to calm him. “I understand your frustration, Sam--”

****

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t!” Sam yelled, dropping the gun and gesticulating wildly. “I go out for two weeks and when I come back, you’re gone. And Dean wouldn’t talk about it and, the last time I saw you? _You'd exploded into a beam of light_. Alright? So, no, you don’t understand my frustration that you didn’t get in touch in almost a freaking month and half.”

****

“I had to seek revelation, it’s an important--”

****

“Screw Heaven crap, Cas!” Sam ran his hands through his hair, almost pulling it. “Nevermind the fact that I was going crazy with worry, but Dean freaking lost it, okay? He hasn’t slept. He barely eats and he’s living off that damned Jack bottle of his!”

****

“Sam, I appreciate your concern, but Dean was aware that I had to investigate this alone and he seemed perfectly fine with it, even if a little displeased that I wouldn’t take his help.”

****

Sam sighed, exhaustedly. “You’re such an idiot.” He stated, resigned. “You both are and I’m officially done with the twp of you.” He sat on one of the rocks and looked up at Castiel. “Dean wasn’t mad that you dissed his help.” Sam explained. “He was just hurt.”

****

“I assure you he was in perfect health condition when I left him, at least that I--”

****

“ _Emotionally hurt_ , Cas.” Sam clarified, impatiently. “You got your wings back and suddenly your helpless human charge was just another burden that’d slow you down in the process.”

****

“Sam, where did you get an idea like that? I would never--”

****

“Don’t you know Dean at all?” Sam rolled his eyes. “I thought you’d learn how to read him by now.”

****

“If what you say is true, then shouldn’t he have bothered me with phone messages like you did? Repeatedly?” Castiel reasoned, taking a few steps toward Sam. “The only time he made contact was to chastise me for putting your life at risk. Which is understandable and rather reasonable, so I’m prepared to forgive him that rudeness.”

****

Sam shook his head. “Whatever.” He got up. “Listen, are you done with this peregrination thing of yours?”

****

“I’m afraid not. There’s still plenty of questions to be answered and I haven’t fully reconnected with Heaven to know exactly what the plans are, and--”

****

“Okay, lemme rephrase that: are you in any immediate danger?”

****

“No. I don’t suppose I am.”

****

“Great. So zap your ass back to Sioux Falls, because if somebody doesn’t fix Dean, I’m pretty sure Bobby is gonna kill him.”

****

“Sam, that’s not possible. There’s still much to be done.”

****

“And it can wait.” Sam said, sternly. “Right now you two have a lot of crap to work out.” He grabbed his gun back and marched back to his car, complaining loudly. “By the way, the both of you need to learn to communicate! I swear, you’re worse than teenage girls with a crush.”

****

 

 

* * *

 

The flap of his wings startled him, Castiel could tell. Dean shivered and lost his balance, spilling his drink all over the desk.

****

“Hello, Dean.”

****

He was greeted with a cold glare and the sarcastic salute of a half-spilled whiskey glass. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Big Shot.” He sipped his drink. “I guess you got your mojo back, after all.”

****

Castiel opened his arms, slightly, feeling rather embarrassed. “Yes, so it would seem. It took me several weeks to coax my grace’s former strength fully back to life, but...”

****

“Wow, I’m _really_ happy for you, Cas.” Dean said, and the sarcasm wasn’t lost even on Castiel. “Guess you’ll be moving upstairs again, huh? Well, send Ash my regards.” He placed his glass on the desk and stomped out the door.

****

Castiel materialized in front of him again in the kitchen. “Dean, I believe there’s been a failure in communication between us.”

****

“Nah, believe me. I hear you, loud and clear: Heaven calls and its hounds have to report back. It happens.” He accused, words dripping with spite.

****

Castiel sighed. “Sam tells me you believe that getting my powers back means I’ll abandon you.” He declared. “And it’s becoming more and more likely that he’s right.” He licked his lips, edging closer to Dean. “But that’s not true. I have no intention of ever leaving you.”

****

Dean chuckled, bitterly. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

****

Castiel lowered his head, conceding the point. “True. But circumstances were different.”

****

“Yeah, right.”

****

“Dean, I faced Heavenly justice and stood before the Council to defend my right to stay with you.” Castiel reminded him, trying not to let much of his hurt show in his words. “I renounced my angelic grace to spend my life as a mortal... Beside you. How could you assume, over so little, that I’d trade it all just because my abilities resumed?”

****

“Cas. You got a taste of angel powers and ran off to get more, okay?” He pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Quit treating me like the crazy jealous girlfriend!”

****

“I only did that because I had to investigate what was happening!” Castiel retorted, his wings thrumming behind him. “Your safety could be threatened. How could I allow you to come along if I didn’t know what was coming for me?”

****

“Okay, I’m putting an end to this telenovela.” Bobby’s voice came from the stairs leading up from the basement to the kitchen. “Cas, Dean’s an idiot who’s in love with you and crazy insecure about it.” He’d reached the top step, and Castiel could see the amusement in his mind betraying the scowl on his face. “And Dean, Cas knows jack-squat about human stuff. How did you expect him to just guess that you were scared?”

****

“What, no--” Dean protested, but Bobby just gestured him out.

****

“Enough of this!” He demanded. “Fluffy wings here was right: heavy weight showdown going on deep south. Something big’s afoot.”  Dean whistled low. “Yeah, so if the lovebirds are done talking about their feelings, we have work to do.” He growled, walking away. “ _Idjits._ ”

****

 

 

* * *

****

The new apocalypse came and went and the fallen-soldier-reinstated-angel, the two lost brothers and the old drunk took care of it as well as they could, but nothing’s ever perfect.

****

Except, maybe, for this: having a sleeping Dean wrapped around his torso is more happiness than Castiel ever dreamed was possible. Heaven tried to take him back, eventually. Attempted to revoke his free will in exchange for permanent use of his powers. But a mortal life with Dean was his choice, now and always. They’ll grow old together - or not.

****

Maybe one of them will have an untimely death. Maybe fate will try to separate them again, Castiel doesn’t know. And that’s the beauty of it, he ponders, as he kisses Dean’s forehead: the 'not knowing'. Being able to enjoy these little moments with absolutely no certainty what comes next.

****

Perhaps this is what life is supposed to be about.

****

 

 

* * *

  
**  
**THE END


End file.
